Signification
by Maddiex
Summary: sig·ni·fi·ca·tion - The representation or conveying of meaning; an exact meaning or tense. GSR, spoilers through the seasons.


**Title: **Signification

**Summary: **(sig·ni·fi·ca·tion) The representation or conveying of meaning; an exact meaning or tense. GSR, spoilers through the seasons.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own CSI.

**A/N:** This story wasn't supposed to be written. I was supposed to finish my WIP this afternoon but this just wouldn't get out of my head. I'm a bit nervous about posting this, actually – it's my first one shot and I know it's not even remotely good compared to some other incredibly creative stories around here, but this is my best today. Maybe a monkey would have done better than this, I don't know. With all due respects to monkeys, I actually kinda like them. I sincerely hope you'll like it. Review if you must, it would make me very happy. May all of you have an amazing week.

Peace always, Maddie.

* * *

_Signification _by Maddie Lemon

* * *

**Comfort** (com·fort) – _noun: _**1.** A state of physical ease and freedom from pain or constraint; (comforts) things that contribute to physical ease and well-being; prosperity and the pleasant lifestyle secured by it; **2.** Consolation for grief or anxiety; a person or thing that gives consolation; **3.** _Dialect _a warm quilt.

* * *

It started out as comfort.

It wasn't about intimacy or feelings. Of course, they _had _feelings for each other. They had been friends. They had been working together for nearly five years. They knew each other, but it was all about comfort.

It happened by chance. He didn't know what to think or how to feel after Sara was nearly killed by a psychotic rapist. It was as if his car took him to her apartment; he didn't know why. He just knew he had to come in – to see her, to smell her scent, to feel her skin against his.

He had needed that. She had needed that.

They simply had needed the release.

A few hours later, they were both woken by the disturbing noise of their phones: they were both needed at a crime scene. They didn't say anything; he left when she was taking a shower, and they worked as normally as ever that night.

No strings attached.

She hadn't seemed to mind, at the time; he never saw her sneaking glances at him. He had to control himself to keep his eyes from her, though. He would see her naked body in front of him, moaning his name in an intimate way. But it wasn't all that intimate, it was just comfort. The realization that only a few hours prior to that moment he had been _inside _her could be too much for him to deal with.

So he didn't.

They had a small fight over a piece of evidence a few days after their night of comfort. It wasn't a big deal; they had fought bigger wars. He knew it. She knew it. In the end, Sara had been right, and she told him that fact with a grin on her face. She wouldn't think about their hours together, confined in her bedroom. It wasn't a big deal.

But later, on the following afternoon, he went to her apartment again. To apologize, just in case. He knew he could be a jerk sometimes, especially where Sara was concerned.

One thing led to another, and a few hours later she was in bed, naked, with a sleeping Gil Grissom on her side.

That night, he kissed her before leaving her bed for work.

She tried not to read much into that. It was only comfort, after all.

* * *

**Passion **(pas·sion) – _noun: _**1.**Strong and barely controllable emotion; a state or outburst of such emotion; intense sexual love; an intense desire or enthusiasm for something; a thing arousing enthusiasm.

* * *

Sex was great.

It was so amazing that they started visiting each other frequently.

It took a few encounters for Grissom to admit that it wasn't _only _about comfort. It was about sex, too.

He truly didn't understand why he needed her so much. He spent his whole life without the feel of her breasts against his chest, of her lips on his neck, of his hands on her most intimate places. He saw her every day. And yet… he couldn't get enough of her.

He felt like a teenager again, that's for sure.

Sometimes it was still about comfort. Once or twice a month, after a difficult case. But mostly, it wasn't about comfort. It was about passion, desire, lust.

He desired Sara Sidle with every inch of his body.

Soon, they developed something like a routine. It varied. Three, four times a week. Maybe five. It reached six times at one point. He wasn't sure how. He'd go to her place, or she'd go to his, after work. They'd talk, maybe eat something. And then they'd be taking each other's clothes off unceremoniously. Just like that.

They had sex in every room at her apartment, in almost every room of his town house. And it was _never _disappointing. Whether they were feeling adventurous in his laundry room or if he was on top of her in her bed, it was always amazing, mind-blowing sex.

But it was what it was: sex. A human need. Comfort. Necessity. Apart from the meals and talks – but they were always friendly, sometimes flirty – that was it. Sex. No spending two days in a row together. No going out on dates. No showering together, no brushing teeth side by side.

That went on for a few weeks after their first time together. A lot of stuff happened in between. Nick was kidnapped. Nick was found. The team got back together.

About two weeks after that, she went to his office to say goodbye; old habits die hard, after all. He smiled and said goodbye, her eyes telling him to come over later. His nod was almost imperceptible. Just as she had turned to leave, he called her name.

He was tired. He wasn't in the mood to cook. They had worked a double, and he was sure she was probably feeling the same way.

He looked at the empty hall before saying anything else.

"Maybe we could have breakfast out today."

Her smile lit up the whole room.

They had breakfast after shift in a diner near his house and, surprisingly, it wasn't difficult. Conversation ran smoothly. They went to his house afterwards, had sex –twice– and fell asleep minutes later. When they woke up he invited her for a shower. She smiled again.

They brushed their teeth side by side in front of his sink that day. It was a Sunday.

* * *

**Intimacy **(in·ti·ma·cy) – _noun: _**1**_. _Close familiarity or friendship; closeness; a private cozy atmosphere; an intimate act, especially sexual intercourse; an intimate remark; closeness of observation or knowledge of a subject.

* * *

They did everything together. They watched TV together. They read together. They cooked meals together. They slept together every day.

He started feeling suffocated at one point. He told her that at work.

Her reaction wasn't what he had expected.

She didn't say anything. She didn't get angry at him. She wasn't cold, but she wasn't warm either. She was almost… impersonal. And in the end of the shift, she said goodbye with no hidden message in her words.

She went to her apartment and he went to his house. He didn't call; she didn't come over.

He started missing simple things. It started at the moment he stepped into his house. There was no kiss to greet him. The stereo wasn't on. Her perfume wasn't there.

When he woke up, a few hours later, she wasn't by his side. There weren't any clothes tossed on the floor. Her bag of clothes wasn't in the bathroom. He missed her voice, telling him that he should eat healthier food. He missed her hands, poking him when he teased her. He missed her laugh when they talked. He missed her kisses and her hugs, which were given so freely, so absentmindedly.

He then realized that their… _relationship _wasn't about sex, or comfort, or needs. The thought of never having her in his house again was somewhat terrifying. He didn't even want to think about her dating someone else.

He showed up at her apartment the next day, offering apologies and a key to his house. He told her how he emptied a part of his closet for her and that he bought her a new toothbrush so that she wouldn't have to bring hers all the time. He was going to tell her that he bought her favorite yogurt, too, but she started kissing him by then and he forgot all about it.

He then decided he needed to impress his _girlfriend _more often.

* * *

**Commitment** (com·mit·ment) – _noun: _**1.** the state or quality of being dedicated to a cause, activity, etc.; a pledge or undertaking; **2.** (usually **commitments**) an engagement or obligation that restricts freedom of action.

* * *

They had some fights. They were a couple, after all; it was only natural for them to argue occasionally. They were mixing their lives together, adjusting to share as much of their lives as they could. They had habits. They had been lonely people for years. They were set on their ways.

They both had a lot to learn. He hadn't been in a significant relationship in many years, and so had Sara.

He learnt that he shouldn't upset Sara when she was cleaning. She was a bit neurotic most of the time, but sometimes she would clean absolutely everything. More than once. All over again. She would clean her closet, her cabinets, her bathroom, shelves, drawers, everything. Hell, he even caught her cleaning _photo albums _once or twice. He felt her fury more than once when he happened to tell her that yes, the bath tub was clean, and could they have a bath together now? He occasionally learnt that this 'cleaning phase' that lasted two days every month coincided with her period coming two or three days later. He started to avoid talking about delicate subjects with her by then.

She was always upset at his researches in his office at first. They would be working on a case, then they would go home at the end of the shift, make love, sleep, shower, share a meal and he would retreat to his office when the case was interesting. He would learn as much as he could, and she would be upset because he seemed to be working even on his free time.

_That _was something he could never say to her, though. Maybe, a long time ago, she had been someone who would read crime novels and listen to the police scanner on her free time. By the time they were in a relationship, she'd read romances, watch comedy series and do yoga. She didn't push him, though. They were beginning to know each other, and he suspected he was learning more from her than she was from him.

They didn't manage to do Christmas together that first year. Sara had to work on Christmas day; he had worked on Christmas Eve. That Christmas, while Sara had been at work, he told his mother about her. No, he told his mother about their relationship – he didn't really know when he had started to talk about Sara to his mother, but it started a long time ago. His mother was pleased. It had been quite a few years that her son talked about being in a serious relationship.

He took Sara to meet his mom a few weeks later. Somehow, the encounter made him feel even more serious about Sara than ever. It had been more than ten years since he took a girlfriend to meet his mother. In the end, everything was fine – a bit awkward maybe, but he was never seeking for his mother's approval, even though he knew he'd always have it. But the realization hit him: he wanted to be with Sara. He couldn't see his future without her. He wondered if she felt the same way.

That night, following their lunch at his mother's, she told him she wanted him to teach her how to sign. She knew a few things – apparently, she had taken an online course after she heard about his surgery. Her signing was very basics, but she could understand slow movements. He started signing and she started translating what he said.

"You are… the most amazing woman… in the world. Flattery will get you nowhere, Gil." She said with a smile on her face. He continued signing and she frowned before poking him in the arm. "Gilbert! I don't know what _that_ is, but I think the signing gave me a general idea. You dirty…"

She never finished speaking because his lips were on hers immediately.

She giggled against his lips, and he wondered if he could ever live without her.

* * *

**Love** (love) – _noun: _**1**. An intense feeling of deep affection; a deep romantic or sexual attachment to someone; a great interest and pleasure in something; affectionate greetings conveyed to someone on one's behalf; a formula for ending an affectionate letter. **2**. A person or thing that one loves. _v__erb__: _**1**_. _feel a deep romantic or sexual attachment to (someone); like very much, find pleasure in.

* * *

They never said the words. It required too much courage, too little fear. He took a while to find out what he felt for her. He suspected she knew it even before he did.

They were a year into their relationship when they talked about moving in together. It wasn't a question or an invitation. According to Sara, it was all about convenience. They talked about it over dinner and it was as casual as talking about the grocery shop list. They spent their time off together, normally at his place, because of his dog, Hank – who at some point started to like Sara better than he liked Grissom. It would be much easier for them if they lived together.

There was always their work situation, but they could work that out. They never received many visitors from the lab, anyway; Catherine rarely saw him out of the job, these days, and neither did Brass. So far, the only person from work who visited Sara often was Greg – and he found out about their relationship on his own, in the beginning. It surprised Grissom that out of his great team, the youngest and the most inexperienced would be the one to see the signs.

So they started to look for a place to live. It took a while – they were busy people and very picky about a living arrangement – but they found a perfect apartment for them. Big enough so that they could have privacy and keep Hank. He let her decorate everything. She let him keep his bugs. They proceeded to make love in every room when the moving was complete.

She supported him when he decided to go away, but he knew she was upset because he didn't tell her until he had already made his decision. His time away proved him lots of things, and he returned to Vegas longing to work, fresh from his time off and determination on his face.

He knew he loved her.

He never told her about the letter. Weeks passed by until she approached him while he worked on his own miniature in his office.

When she told him she loved him that night, he knew she read the letter.

And he did nothing but tell her he loved her too.

They were in a relationship, they trusted each other and they were in love.

Nothing could go wrong.

But there's always calm before the storm.

* * *

**Desperation** (des·per·a·tion) – _noun: _a state of despair, typically one that results in rash or extreme behavior.

* * *

He couldn't believe it when she went missing.

No, not her. Not Sara.

Not _his _Sara.

He didn't care about anything after he learnt that she was taken. He didn't care if the world knew they were in a relationship. He only cared about finding her.

But he tried to remain calm. It would do Sara no good if he lost his mind. But as the clock ticked, he was becoming more and more desperate.

He couldn't bear to lose her. He _loved _her.

He wouldn't know how to live without her.

He broke down when they found her. He remained calm until he saw her eyes looking at him as she slipped in and out of consciousness. God, how he loved her.

He prayed that she would get better, that everything would go back to normal. But it was too late for that.

She was hurting, and she became distant. They were forced to stop working together and, although they had talked about him taking over another shift, she decided to change on her own. He didn't bulge. This was her decision.

He saw the changes, but he was too busy thanking God that she was alive to do something about it. He savored every moment, every second he spent with her. She was the love of his life, and she was alive.

He proposed. There was no ring, no kneeling down, and no fancy dinner. Just the two of them, spending time together watching bees. He thought it was perfect.

She said yes, after all.

Two weeks were spent in a blissful happiness. The little smiles at each other at the lab, the touches when they were with friends, the talks about a wedding, the lovemaking, the tenderness.

Then, as quickly as it had come, happiness was gone.

Sara left him.

And he was lost without her.

* * *

**Yearning **(yearn·ing) – _noun: _a feeling of intense longing for something.

* * *

To say that he missed her would be an understatement.

They talked regularly, at least once a week. But it was never the same. She knew she was doing what was best for her. He wanted her to be happy, and he knew there wasn't much he could do about it. He could only support her, because he knew her unconditional love for him would have supported him if the situation was reversed.

And he loved. Oh, her being away only made his love for her stronger. He missed seeing her on a daily basis. He missed her laugh. He missed her smile.

But he knew he could only see her laugh or smile when she was ready. And she waited seven years for him. He would wait for her until his last day on Earth.

It was difficult. People seemed to think he needed their support. He didn't.

He only needed Sara to be happy.

When she came back, he felt alive again. The situation couldn't have been worse, but he was glad Sara was there. She comforted him, she was the strong one that day. He wished Warrick could have seen her.

He couldn't believe she had come back. During the few days she spent in Vegas, he couldn't get enough of her. He knew she didn't plan on staying. He also knew she wanted him to go away with her. But it wasn't that simple.

And she left him again.

* * *

**Numbness** (numb·ness) – _noun: _the state of being numb.

* * *

The second time she left, she didn't call him. He tried to contact her, but the only thing he got was a cold email telling him she was okay and that he didn't have to worry about her.

He had no idea where she was and that was his own fault.

He started doing everything automatically. No, he wasn't fine. He doubted he would ever be.

She sent him a video. She told him he was free. She told him she was happy.

Sweet Sara, always doing what was right.

He almost believed her. But he knew he wouldn't be happy without her. But he couldn't leave the lab.

Suddenly, everything became too much. The job was nothing when Sara wasn't there. His house wasn't home without her. She had set him free only to have him trapped.

His indecision became a decision.

But that was one decision he was willing to change.

* * *

**Togetherness** (to·geth·er·ness) – _noun: _the state of being close to another person or other people.

* * *

She wasn't the only one who cried when they kissed. He didn't think he had ever seen her as happy as she became when he told her he had no plans to go back to Vegas anytime soon.

They got married a week later.

They spent the first weeks in a careless way, enjoying their new closeness. He told her how he decided to leave the lab. She told him everything she had been doing for the past months.

The privacy the jungle gave them was unbelievable. They became partners in so many ways. They studied bugs together, photographing everything. Their honeymoon was spent traveling in the rainforest, seeing different animals during the day and making love during the night. He decided he would never live without Sara by his side again.

* * *

**Marriage** (mar·riage) – _noun: _**1.** The formal union of a man and a woman, typically recognized by law, by which they become husband and wife; the state of being married. **2.** A combination or mixture of two or more elements.

* * *

They eventually left Costa Rica. They went to Egypt, visited the pyramids. They traveled around Europe, and eventually settled down in Paris. He found it hard to believe that Sara was his wife, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

But he knew she was bored.

He got busy with lectures, seminars and researches. But Sara needed action. And even if she didn't show it, he knew it. He knew everything about her.

When Ecklie called, he told her to go. He knew she wanted to, but he also knew she'd never go unless he told her to.

His days were never lonely, even if she wasn't there. They talked every day. He managed to go to Vegas to visit her a few times, and she visited him constantly too. It wasn't conventional, it wasn't ideal. He couldn't say he was completely satisfied with the arrangement, but she was happy, and they were together, even if they were apart.

They were a family.

He left France a few months later to be a part of a research in Mexico. The proximity made their encounters more possible, but he knew that people talked about their marriage. His mother and Catherine, especially. They would often send him emails asking him when he'd come permanently to the US. But poor Sara had to face everything for him, and he knew she was becoming upset with being away from him for weeks.

He traveled around Ecuador, Brazil, Peru and Venezuela before he realized it was time to go home.

Time for the family to be complete.

* * *

**Happiness** (hap·pi·ness) – _noun: _the state of being happy.

* * *

He knew when he saw her that she was special. All those years ago, when he saw her wearing casual clothes, with a smile on her lips and a messy ponytail, he knew Sara Sidle was special.

She was the only woman he ever truly loved. And no matter how he tried, along the years, to think that it was all about attraction, friendship, sex, comfort or love, it didn't matter.

It was always about her.

Perhaps it was time to change, after all. For years his life had been about his career. For years his life had been about Sara.

"Gil," he heard his wife's sleepy voice startle him as she stirred in front of him, "it's your turn. Alice is crying."

He kissed Sara's shoulder before getting out of bed and walking sleepily around the house, hearing his daughter's quiet whimpers coming from the nursery. As he approached the crib, huge watery blue eyes stared at him as Alice stopped crying the minute she saw her father. He grinned, picking up the baby and checking if she needed a new diaper, but the baby was completely clean and didn't seem to be hungry. He walked back to bed, lying down carefully to not startle the baby. Sara had her eyes open by then and smiled when she saw her husband and their eight-month old looking at her.

"You know, I can't get enough of these blue eyes." Sara whispered as she sat down in the bed, taking the baby into her arms.

It wasn't all about Sara now.

He was sure she wouldn't mind sharing, though.


End file.
